


Murderer

by Forever_Imagining



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, mentions of hanging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12684003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Imagining/pseuds/Forever_Imagining
Summary: Being Murphy's girlfriend wasn't a bad thing at all. He was by your side through thick and thin, so you were by his side. Even when he was hanged. But, what happens when Murphy goes over the edge? Did he really die when he was hanged? Or is the boy you fell in love with forever gone?





	1. Chapter 1

It was a normal day for you and your boyfriend, John Murphy. The two of you woke up, cuddled until Bellamy barged in and told you to get up. Then you two started working, catching each other’s eyes throughout the day. 

However, when Clarke approached him with his missing knife in her hand screaming “You son of a bitch,” that’s when you abandoned your job and strode up to them. “John,” you whispered, “what’s going on?”

Your boyfriend pushed you behind him. “Stay out of it,” he muttered.

“Recognize this?” the blonde asked. 

Murphy nodded. “It’s my knife. Where’d you find it?” He must have known something was wrong for he grasped your hand and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Clarke snapped, “Where you dropped it after you killed Wells.”

Your blood boiled. “How dare you!” you exclaimed. “Wells was killed by Grounders. That was his own fault!”

Murphy held your hand tighter and pulled you behind him. “You’re not really believing this crap, are you, Bellamy?”

“You threatened to kill Wells. We all heard you. You hated Wells.”

“Everyone hated Wells,” you pointed out.

John continued, “His father put us all here.”

Clarke didn’t back down. “But you are the only one who got into a knife fight with him.”

“Yeah, I didn’t kill him either,” John argued.

“Tried to kill Jasper, too,” Octavia said. 

“All of us wanted to kill Jasper,” you shouted. You let go of Murphy’s hand, your face red with anger. “Don’t you remember that? We all wanted to do it! The only ones who didn’t were the ones who had unrealistic hope on this goddamn planet!”

Murphy pulled you back, holding you against his waist. “Look, I didn’t kill Wells. I don’t have to answer to you or anyone!”

“Come again,” Bellamy asked. 

You sighed. Bellamy knew how loyal John was. Maybe he’d help you. “Bellamy, John was with me the night Wells died. He never would do something this extreme.”

“Stay out of this, (Y/n),” Clarke snapped. 

“Excuse me!” you shouted. They were accusing your boyfriend of murder. You had to be involved. What did Clarke think of you? As some random chick that was just desperate enough to fall into the arms of a delinquent? As some damsel in distress?

Murphy tightened his grip on you. “Bellamy, you have to believe me. I didn’t do this.”

Bellamy shrugged. “They found his fingers on the ground with your knife.”

“And he was with me that night,” you sneered. “Someone must be mistaken.”

John whispered to you, “Go back to the tent, (Y/n).”

“No!” you responded. “I’m not leaving you.”

Clarke faced the growing crowd. “Is this the kind of society that we want? You say there should be no rules. Does that mean that we can kill each other without… without punishment?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t kill Wells!” Murphy pointed out.

You ripped away from John’s grip and pointed at Clarke. “What about you then?”

“What?”

“What about you? You and your mother are the doctors and healers of our so-called haven in space, and yet, you are never allowed to exceed certain supplies! You would let innocent children, fathers, mothers, die just to keep our precious junk of a living space running! Why can’t we punish you?”

“That is not our choice to make.”

“Actually it is.” You faced the crowd. “This princess here thinks it’s ok to follow the stupid fucking law and let innocents die and have a funeral by throwing them off the ship! You know, I thought you broke the law to give some child or patient illegal medicine. But no, you broke the law for some pointless reason! Is that what you wanna do to my boyfriend? Kill him for being innocent?! Should I kill you after you kill him? Then, maybe you can fucking kill me for killing you!”

“He’s not innocent. He killed Wells,” Clarke insisted.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, “He was with me when Wells died!”

“I say we float him,” Octavia suggested.

The delinquents agreed, much to your dismay. Immediately, you dashed to your boyfriend and pulled him towards your tent. You had some knives and a pack. The two of you were prepared to leave at any moment’s notice. 

However, Murphy stayed put. “(Y/n), go to the tent.”

“I am not leaving you.”

Suddenly, delinquents poured onto the two of you, pulling your boyfriend away from you. He screamed, “Hey! Wait! You can’t do this to me! I didn’t kill Wells!”

You fought your way back, screaming his name. “John! Stop it! He was with me! I swear to God he was with me! Please, you can’t do this! John!”

Suddenly, your arms were restrained. You screamed. You looked behind you. It was Octavia. “What the hell?! Let go of me! That’s my boyfriend right there! John!”

Octavia pulled you back even further. “Your boyfriend’s a murderer.” You pulled and kicked and screamed. “Stop it! He’s innocent! John!” You spotted Clarke and scowled. “Is this what you wanted?! For them to kill my boyfriend?! You had tears in your eyes as you saw a noose around his neck. “John!”

You heard the words “Bellamy should do it!” You screamed, “Bellamy! He’s innocent! Please!” You pulled against Octavia. However, she just held you tighter. “Bellamy, please!” you shouted. 

The delinquents were chanting and you caught John’s eye. 

It was just a few seconds that you looked at each other. You were just shaking your head with tears in your eyes. John Murphy just tilted his head in the direction of your tent. 

Then, he was hung. 

“No!” you screamed. You ripped away from Octavia’s grip. “Cut him down now! Cut him down!” The crowd wasn’t in your favor. They pushed you back. 

You screamed in frustration. “That is my boyfriend is dying because of you! Let him go!”

Clarke came up to you. “I never meant for this to happen, (Y/n).”

You didn’t even pay attention to her. You were too livid. “Let him go, you bastards! You’re killing him!”

The crowd parted for a reason unknown to you. It was the little girl at camp. “It was me! I killed Wells!”

With the crowd silent, you pulled out two knives from a delinquent next to you. You threw it at the ropes hanging him, getting it on your second try. Murphy was cut down. The crowd didn’t fight against you. You flew right over to him. “John! John!” You untied the roped and gag. “John,” you whispered. For a split second, you thought he was dead. He looked pale and slightly blue. You heaved and breathed deeply. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be. He was your boyfriend, John Murphy, the most resilient of the hundred. How could he be dead?

Your boyfriend coughed.

You beamed. You wrapped your arms around his chest. You buried your head in his neck. You felt his warmth, and you loved it. “You’re gonna be ok,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be ok.”

He rubbed your back, sighing. John didn’t think he would be able to hold you again. “I love you, (Y/n),” he whispered.

You laughed weakly. “I love you, too, John.” 

However, the anger that you felt before started coming back. Your eyes narrowed. How dare they hang him for something he didn’t even do! You even told them that he was innocent. He was spending time with you! You pulled away from John and stood up. 

You faced Bellamy. “You call yourself a leader!” 

Clarke appeared next to him. “I am so sorry. We didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean? You didn’t mean to what, Clarke? Get my boyfriend hanged? Get him floated? You didn’t mean to kill him? And for something he didn’t even do!” You stalked forward. “You accused him without even listening, Clarke! And Bellamy, he was loyal to you! And you let him hang?!”

You walked over to your boyfriend and helped him up. He was still a bit dazed due to the lack of oxygen. Despite that, John still wrapped his arm around your waist and stared Bellamy and Clarke down. 

You spat, “If anyone’s a murderer around here, it’s the two of you.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Bring out the girl, Bellamy!” 

You stood next to John, making sure nothing too extreme would take place. You just wanted the girl to be punished and for Clarke and Bellamy to apologize. They shouldn’t hide in the tent like some cowards would. You held the knives that freed your boyfriend threateningly. 

“Bring the girl out now!”

You scoffed. “Come on, Princess! You said it yourself! There must be justice!”

Murphy smiled at you. He couldn’t help but feel overwhelming pride that you were his girlfriend. He turned his attention back to the tent. “We’re building a society here, Princess! Bring her out!”

Bellamy came out with no Charlotte. 

“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” Murphy laughed.

“Dial it down,” the so-called leader commanded, “and back off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like what you did when you hung my boyfriend.”

Bellamy defended himself, “I was just giving the people what they wanted.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Murphy nodded “Why don’t we do that right now? So who here wants to see the real murderer here hung up? All in favor?”

Everyone was silent, including you. Only a few of Murphy’s close friends raised their hands. 

“What?” you gasped. You stepped towards him. “John, you can’t just kill her.”

Suddenly, John’s demeanor changed in front of you. He tilted his head and sneered, “So, it’s ok that they hanged me, an innocent,” his voice rose, “but when this little bitch confesses you wanna let her walk? Cowards! All of you are–”

You grasped his arm tightly and spoke with a soft voice, “John, she’s just a kid. You can’t just kill her!”

John’s eyes widened. He never expected that from you.

“Listen to her, Murphy.” Bellamy smirked slightly. “It’s over.”

Murphy shied away from him. “Whatever you say, boss.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You smiled a little. You turned your back, expecting Murphy to follow you.

You heard the crack of wood against bone instead.

“Bellamy!”

“No!”

You whipped your head around. Murphy punched Jasper. Two of his friends restrained Octavia, who was screaming her head off. Bellamy was on the ground, probably unconscious.

You grit your teeth. You stepped in between the tent and John. “This has gone far enough,” you stated. “We can leave this be. Let the girl go.”

“So, you’re taking their side, huh?” John argued. 

“As if! Look, she’s a child who’s confused and down here all alone. Yes, she should be punished, but not hung!”

“So, they can hang me. Is that what you’re saying, (Y/n)?”

“No! I’m trying-”

“You’re ok with me dying, and not the actual murderer!”

“None of you should hang, John!”

“So, you don’t want to support me on this?” John gazed at you. He was always alone in his life, and when you came into his life, that changed. The two of you promised to be there for each other.

You stared at your boyfriend. You knew what he was thinking. You knew him that well. You pursed your lips. “I do not agree with you. Not this time.”

Murphy dropped his head and clicked his tongue. “Well, now that that’s settled.” He turned his head and addressed the boys, “Bring her to the tent.”

Two of his friends restrained you. “John!” you gasped, struggling against their grip.

Murphy just continued, “Rest of you, we’re getting the girl.”

“John, you can’t do this!” you screamed. “This isn’t you! Please.”

Murphy shook his head. “This is something I have to do, (Y/l/n). Not that you would understand.”

You glared at your boyfriend. He only used your last name when he was livid. But, you knew this was more than just anger. You muttered, low enough so John could hear, “You’ll regret this.”

Murphy just licked his lips. “She’ll try to escape. Make sure she stays here.” Then, he left. 

You inhaled deeply then tugged, trying to free yourself. It was no use. 

You were watched in your own tent. Two boys guarded the exit. You were not planning on staying there. Your boyfriend was corrupting himself, and you were not going to stand for it. Of course, you were struggling as well. Your boyfriend was going out of his mind. What if you couldn’t bring him back?

Wiping some escaped tears away, you grabbed an emergency pack you prepared and filled a canteen with alcohol that Murphy found scouting the terrain. You pursed your lips and nonchalantly walked outside. 

“Hey, where you going?” One of the teens grabbed your arm forcefully. 

You tilted your head. “I just wanted to fill my canteen.”

“Just take some of mine,” the other said, handing you the canteen. You took of sip of his, turning around. In a split second, you replaced his canteen with yours. You handed your canteen to the teen. “That’s refreshing. You should try it.”

You sauntered back to the tent. Expecting the two teenage boys would be distracted by your little antic, you ripped a hole in the back of the tent and made a run for it. 

“Hey, she’s getting away!”

“Dude, she gave us alcohol!”

“What? Really?”

You smirked. Boys were so immature. You grit your teeth. You had to find Murphy or Charlotte before they found each other. 

Suddenly, you bumped into one of the people you wanted to find. Charlotte. However, she was accompanied by Bellamy, the man who hung John Murphy. Bellamy and you glared at each other.

“I don’t want John to do this,” you whispered, scared that Murphy could hear you. 

Bellamy nodded. “I don’t want her hurt.”

The two of you nodded in agreement.

However, Charlotte just had to scream and shout, “Murphy! I’m over here!”

Bellamy covered her mouth and threw her over his shoulder. 

“Come on out, Charlotte!”

You stumbled back a little bit. You never heard Murphy’s voice like that. Usually, you were comforted by the sound of his voice. Maybe you felt a swell of pride or respect. However, that one moment was new. You were scared, terrified, of what the boy with that voice could do to you, to anyone. 

“You coming?” Bellamy whispered.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

‘’Murphy! I’m over here!”

You shushed the girl. “Hey, Charlotte. Look at me.” You realized it was hard for her to do, since Bellamy and you were running, and she was thrown over his shoulder. You clarified, “Just listen, Jo-Murphy, I’m his girlfriend, ok? I’ll calm him down. You’re gonna be just fine. But, I can’t help you if you keep screaming, ok?”

She closed her eyes. 

“It’s gonna be ok,” you reassured her. 

Suddenly, the two of you stopped. “Cliff,” muttered Bellamy.

“Bellamy!” Murphy and his friends came into the clearing. Murphy reasoned, “You can’t fight all of us. Give her up.” You turned around slowly, the torch’s light revealing who you were. Murphy’s eyes widened at the sight of you. Then, they immediately narrowed. 

You held your head high. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Bellamy and I can take you.”

“And if we can’t, we can always take some with us,” Bellamy sneered.

Clarke barged in. “Bellamy! Stop! This has gone too far!” She faced your boyfriend and his group. “Just calm down. We’ll talk about this.”

Murphy eyed Charlotte, then smirked. He pulled Clarke into his arms and held a knife to her neck. “I’m sick of listening to you talk.” 

You grit your teeth, then composed yourself. “Then, listen to me. John, please. This isn’t you. Look, I’m mad, too. What Clarke and Bellamy, and, well, a lot of people did-” You took a deep breath. You had to be careful. “What they did was horrible. But, everyone is not in their right minds. I’m not. Bellamy’s not. Clarke most definitely isn’t.”

The said girl grit her teeth and stared at you. 

You continued, nonetheless, “You aren’t either.”

“I am in the right state of mind,” he sneered. “You are the one who’s out of your mind!” He concentrated on Clarke, holding the knife closer to her throat. 

“Don’t hurt her!” Charlotte screamed. 

“Don't hurt her?” Murphy said. “Yeah, I won’t hurt her. Okay, I’ll make you a deal. You come with me right now, I will let her go.”

Charlotte stepped forward, but Bellamy prevented her from going any further. She screamed in protest. You stood protectively in front of the two and took out your knife. No one was going to die on your watch.

“I can’t let any of you get hurt anymore,” started Charlotte. Her voice was so quiet and soft. “Not because of me. Not after what I did.” She jumped.

“No!” you screamed your throat raw. You looked over the cliff, hoping to see her on a ledge or caught on a branch. However, she was nowhere in sight. You covered your mouth, mumbling your silent sobs. 

One second, you were mourning over Charlotte, the next Bellamy was punching Murphy. 

You tried your best to pry Bellamy off. “Get off! Get off of him! Please! Bellamy!”

Clarke got the man off of John. You leaned down, out of habit. However, before you could even look into Murphy’s eyes, you stood up. You clenched your fists. 

“For now,” you heard Clarke say, “we make the rules.”

“So, what, then? We take him back and pretend like it never happened?”

“No!”

She was right. You knew that what he has done couldn’t go without punishment.

Clarke concluded, “We banish him.”

“Banishment?” you gasped. “Isn’t that harsh? I mean, you did get everyone to hang Murphy.” You flinched. It was so unnatural to call him by that. You were so used to John. “Bellamy hung him himself. All of us have done something!”

“So what do you suggest?” Bellamy implored.

You gulped. “I don’t know.”

Clarke agreed. “(Y/n)’s right. No meat for everyone in camp for two weeks. We only preserve, but no feast, celebration. That’s our punishment.”

Everyone was silent for a moment. Bellamy, then, grabbed Murphy by the shirt. “Get up!”

You closed your eyes tightly and looked away. Bellamy threatened him, told the four others to leave, and left himself. You stayed there for a moment. You didn’t know what to do. 

“(Y/n).” John. That voice was definitely John. 

You turned around. He didn’t look like John. You gulped. You couldn’t just leave him here. Yet, you couldn’t just go with him either. John would never hurt a child, even if it meant justice. This person in front of you was not the person you fell in love with. 

You took a step forward.

Murphy smiled.

You opened the pack you brought. “There are some good berries in here and some medicinal things to help you with any wounds-”

“(Y/n), what are you doing?”

“And you also have one bottle of water and some water purification tablets in there, too. Use them wisely, ok?”

“(Y/n), please.”

“You also have a blanket, a little bit of string. Remember your Earth Skills class. You might be able to make a trap or something.”

“(Y/n).”

You grabbed your knife and handed it to him. “Hunting and defense. Never for practice.”

“(Y/n)!” Murphy wiped away the tears that you didn’t know were there. You didn’t look at him, though. You took his hand away from your face and went stalked backward. “Just, try and survive.”

“(Y/n).”

You ran. You couldn’t bear it. You ran, keeping the torch’s light in sight. You heard Murphy scream for you. You tried your best to block them out. 

“(Y/n)! Please!”

You reached the outside of the wall. You leaned against it. You were so weak. there was nothing left. You collapsed and cried. You felt guilt eating up at your stomach. But how could you even begin to feel better? You left your boyfriend out in the woods to fend for himself against Grounder, acid fog, and other unknown beasts! You cried. You lost Charlotte. You lost John. You lost everything. Everything down on Earth was murder.

How could you even live? 

You sighed. You had to keep going. Your parents are on the Ark. Maybe they’d come down. You had to fight for the hundred. They were like you. You had to fight for John Murphy, the boy who died when he was hung.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s been fifteen days. Fifteen days ago, Murphy was hanged and he survived. Murphy went into the woods, shouting and screaming, and he survived. Murphy was banished, and you had no idea if he was still alive. Of course you felt guilty. You left him in the forest to fend for himself. To you, it didn’t matter that you gave him a pack full of supplies, you still left him, and it ate you alive.

Everyone knew about the two of you. Because of this, they avoided you. they didn’t want to get involved with Murphy’s ex. They were terrified of what you would do. You were alone, surrounded by the people who killed John Murphy.

But, then again, were you a reason he died?

You hated this constant struggle within yourself. Was your boyfriend, the boy you loved, really gone? Was he gone the day he was hung? Did John, the John you still love, survive the hanging? Maybe he had, but you never saw him since. Should you feel guilty? Should you not?

You hated being confused.

“(Y/n)!”

“What, Derek?”

“Stay alert! Grounders can here any second!”

You sighed. Yeah, Clarke, Bellamy, and Finn were amazing leaders. They led the 100 into war. You swore, when things got ugly, you’d leave and try making a life with Grounders or something. You did not want to be in the middle of a war.

Clank!

“Something hit the tripwire!”

You stiffened and positioned your gun. You squinted at darkness. You could barely see anything. “You got anything, (Y/n)?” Derek asked.

“Nothing. No Grounders here.”

Derek shouted, “There! There!” He fired his gun into the darkness twice.

Silence met your ears.

“I think I got him.”

“Then, we have no time to waste,” you said, heading outside. Octavia shoved her way to the front. “Watch it, Octavia,” you snapped. She was the one that held you back when John was hanging.

She paid no attention to you as she approached the body. Your gun was still propped on your shoulder as the torchlight illuminated the scene for you. Octavia crouched down and gently nudged the body’s shoulder. The body sprung to life, scrambling away from everyone.

You held your breath. It wasn’t a Grounder. It was Murphy.

You gulped as you lowered your gun. You bit your lips and tried to look away. You didn’t need this. You didn’t need any of this. Murphy didn’t even call out your name. It just took his ragged breathing. It took just the sound of Murphy heaving to make you turn around.

The first thing you felt was sympathy. It stabbed you right in the gut. You dropped your gun and approached Murphy slowly. Murphy’s outstretched hand shook with fear.

You tried to coax him. “Mur-John, it’s me. (Y/n). We’re gonna help you, ok?” You slowly reached out for him.

Murphy flinched before making contact with you. His fingers brushed yours. You sighed. He was back. Were you going to forgive him? Hell no, but maybe, just maybe, the two of you could patch things up. You grasped his hand lightly and helped him. “Careful, (Y/n),” Connor warned you.

You scoffed. “He’s my ex. I think I can handle him.” You swore Murphy tensed up, but you ignored it. You shouldn’t care about him. But, then again, you were helping him to camp.

You lead Murphy to the dropship. you left to get him some fresh clothes. “Touch him, you die. Got it?” you warned the two boys. When you got back, you saw Bellamy pointing his gun at Murphy. You stepped in front of Bellamy. “We are not killing him,” you sneered.

“Just cause you guys were together, does not mean he’s innocent.”

“And just because you’re the leader of this camp does not mean I will hesitate to kill you.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Finn interrupted, separating the two of you. “We are not killing Murphy. He may have some info on the Grounders.”

“I don’t care. We hung him, we banished him, and now we’re going to kill him,” Bellamy stated coldly.

You crossed your arms. “Excuse me, you hung him for the wrong reason, making him go crazy in the first place!”

Clarke agreed. “Finn and (Y/n) are right. Charlotte was his fault as much as ours.” The teen crouched down and examined his fingers. “He was tortured. His fingernails were pulled off.”

“You and the Grounders should compare notes,” Finn sneered.

“The Grounders know we’re at war.” Bellamy frowned, glaring at Murphy. “What did you tell them about us?”

You averted your gaze from your ex. You wanted him to say nothing. You longed for him to say anything but everything.

“Everything.”

Damn it.

Clarke stood up. “Once he’s better, we find out what he knows, and then he’s out of here, okay?”

“What if he refuses to leave?” Bellamy demanded. “What do we do with him then?”

“We kill him.”

You grit your teeth. You could not care for Murphy. He was bringing you down. You had to let him go. As you exited the room, you heard him call out your name. You didn’t stop walking. With each step you took, you felt your heart crack. He was your boyfriend. John Murphy was tortured and on the verge of death, yet you didn’t stay. You couldn’t. When you were in your tent, you sighed and cried yourself to sleep.

You woke up to shouting. “Get up! Come on!”

You coughed, your lungs not really working. “What? I work at night, you idiot,” you mumbled. Your groaned, your stomach felt like it was collapsing on yourself. It burned, actually. It was like the time of the month, but worse. It was way worse. You clutched your stomach, trying to ease the pain.

“(Y/n), come on. Please, wake up.”

That was John. The voice was raspy and dry, but it was just as soft and strong as John’s voice. Your eyelids fluttered open. There he was, bloodied and beaten, but it was John. Your feelings of comfort disappeared. You remembered what Murphy had done. You groaned. “What do you want?”

He reached out to touch you but thought better of it. “(Y/n), I’m sick.”

“No kidding.” You pulled the blanket over your head. “Now, let me sleep.”

“Damn it, (Y/n). The Grounders gave me a virus. Clarke needs to check you for symptoms.”

“I’m fine.” Your stomach turned inside out. Thick mucus climbed up your throat and forced its way out of your mouth.

Murphy didn’t hesitate. He carried you to the dropship and got you on a hammock.

“You need to rest,” Clarke sneered.

Murphy got you a blanket, making sure you were comfortable. “(Y/n)’s sick. I’ll rest after she gets the care she needs.”

“Isn’t she you’re ex?” laughed a sick delinquent, coughing in the process.

Murphy pursed his lips. “Yeah.” He pulled the blanket up a little, covering your shoulders, and brushed the hair away from your face. “Doesn’t mean I don't care about her.”

That’s when you dozed off. He cared. He still cared. Question is, did you?

The next few days were just you recovering. There was a lot of drama going around camp. There was this weird bomb that was set off. Raven broke up with Finn. Some kid with the virus died because of some lung problems or something. You really weren’t into all that. Of course, deep down, you cared, but after seeing your boyfriend accused. hung, and banished, you learned that caring wasn’t something that came useful on the Ground.

Speaking of infamous John Murphy, he took care of you a lot. He was the one that brought you more than enough water, the best blankets, and even made sure you got more than enough sleep. Unfortunately for your conscience, you got better way quicker than the others. Clarke told you it must have been because Murphy gave you so much extra strength.

You already hated Clarke. That comment made you hate her more.

Murphy helped you around camp, always asking if you were ok. You insisted on doing things by yourself. However, you had to admit, sometimes, you just wanted to hug him again. But, you couldn’t. So much had happened. It wouldn’t be ok to just forgive Murphy for all the things he’s done and said.

The impossible suddenly happened. Murphy added more sins to your list.

You were preparing your gun and emergency pack when you heard Jasper over your radio. “Murphy has a gun. He killed-”

You grit your teeth. Your blood boiled. You were already under the pressure of war and your possibility of escaping. Murphy just had to pull this shit again!

You ran outside just in time to the dropship close.

“He has Jasper,” Bellamy muttered, loud enough for only you to hear.

You held the radio up to your mouth. “Murphy, it’s (Y/n).” You licked your lips. You didn’t know what to say. Last time you tried coaxing him, he went insane and still forced the youngest of the 100 to choose between her life or Clarke’s. You gulped before trying again. “Please, open the door.”

Silence.

“Murphy, this is (Y/n). We can work this out. Please, open the door.”

There was no response.

You cursed under your breath. “Murphy, Jasper is innocent! Let him go!”

The entire night continued. You didn’t say anything else over the radio. Raven was trying to find some way to get inside the dropship. You volunteered to get on that dropship. Bellamy protested, saying that Murphy wouldn’t change his mind. “It doesn’t matter,” you told him. “If I can’t convince him to not kill you, then I know for sure that John is dead.” That was your plan.

When Murphy shouted for just Bellamy, you protested. “No! I’m coming with him.”

“We never agreed to that.”

“I never agreed to be in the same camp as you. Either you let Bellamy and me in, or no deal.”

You got in. Once again, you didn’t recognize the boy you knew. He demanded you give up all your weapons. The downside to having Murphy as an ex, he knew you always had more than enough on you. You had to give up three daggers and one handheld gun Bellamy gave you. After that, you gave up the one other knife you kept in your boot. “You don’t have to do this.”

Murphy just turned around, not facing you

“John,” you whispered. “This isn’t you.”

Murphy stopped. “Then you don’t know me at all.”

You watched him demand Bellamy to make a noose out of seat-belts. You stomped angrily on the floor, frustrated. You still don’t know whether it was because of what you were witnessing or because Raven didn’t fix that damned door yet.

Once Bellamy had the noose around his neck, you panicked. You grabbed Murphy’s shoulder and made him face you. However, your ex was prepared. He shouldered his gun and pointed it right at you.

Terrified, you backed up, bumping your head on the wall. You lifted your head and stared at Murphy with tears in your eyes.

Fear and guilt flashed across Murphy’s eyes. It was so quick, though. You didn’t know if it actually happened.

You whispered, “Please, John, this isn’t you. You could walk away from this.”

“They wanted to kill me, (Y/n). They tried to kill me!”

“I know they did. I know. But this isn’t going to make anything better.”

“Nothing will make it better!”

“You think I don’t know that!” You flinched again: Murphy’s gun was pointing at you again.

The teen immediately lowered it.

You shook your head, tears in your eyes. “John, please. You could run or something. Be in prison with no food. This-”

“Run, (Y/n)? You mean like last time, when you abandoned me and I was captured!”

“Then I’ll run with you!” You paused. That was not part of the plan. However, you couldn’t help but feel like that was the right thing to say. “I’ll leave with you, then.” You took a deep breath. Were you really going with this?

Murphy chuckled. “Don’t you see? When the king’s dead, I can lead the 100. Maybe you could replace the princess?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Not only was that absolutely insane, but it seemed as if Murphy, somewhere deep within himself, still cared for you. You grit your teeth. That shouldn’t matter. Murphy had gone insane.

Then, raven screamed. Murphy wasted his bullets trying to shoot her. Bellamy hung.

You screamed, trying to get to him and help him, but Murphy shoved you back.

That’s when the door opened. Murphy cursed, running upstairs. You cut Bellamy down and climbed up right after him. Murphy blocked the hatch and held the gun at the door. “Come with me,” he muttered.

“What?”

Your ex nodded to the gunpowder. “We can get out of here like we always planned. Like what you said mere minutes ago.”

Bellamy tried forcing the hatch open. the sound made your knees go weak and your brain spin.

“(Y/n), you’re all I have left. Please, you’ve gotta-”

“You just tried hanging Bellamy. You killed two others and-”

“I’ll make it up to you. Please.” Murphy looked at you, eye to eye. “I need you, (Y/n).”

When Bellamy got up there, you were on the ground, far from the explosion. “What happened? Where’s Murphy?”

“Gone. He used the gunpowder to blast a hole in the side of the ship. That bastard.”

As Bellamy and his little crew discussed the possible future events, you smiled. He got out. Murphy was out.

Later that night, while everyone was busy preparing for war, you sneaked out of camp and met Murphy. “So, what do you want to tell me?”

He chuckled. “I guess running away with me’s not an option?”

You sighed. “John-”

“I know. Damage is done.” He gazed at you. “You know, you’re still as strong as you always were.”

You shrugged. “You’re avoiding the question, John.”

“Right. (Y/n), I need to tell you goodbye.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Goodbye? I’m never going to see you again. I might as well tell you-”

“John-”

“I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ve made a lot. I pointed a gun at you. I killed two. I tried killing many others. I’ve done a number of bad things. I already asked you twice about coming with me. Now, I guess, I’ll just try running again.”

“They’ll capture you.”

“They might. Maybe I can be smarter and not get captured.” He licked his lips. “Goodbye, (Y/n).”

Seeing his back towards you scared you. Last time something like this happened, Murphy was captured, tortured and went insane. You didn’t want it to end like this. You didn’t want to say that you never tried. You didn’t want to regret anything.

As he turned around, you grabbed his wrist and turned him around again. You pressed your lips softly against his.

Murphy pulled you closer. One hand remained on your waist, while the other roamed, tracing everything on your body and settling on grabbing your hair. He kissed you harder, his lips sparking something within you like it always did. You wrapped your arms around his neck. You threaded your hands through his hair, trying to memorize every detail.

You pulled away first. You, however, could not bring yourself to let go of his neck. “Goodbye,” you whispered.

After catching his breath, Murphy muttered, “Goodbye.” Then, he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Days after Murphy escaped, you were the outcast again. You let Murphy get away. Apparently, some gunman saw you talking to him after he escaped. It wasn’t a good day for you. Bellamy yelled at you in front of everyone. Seeing as you had no one to impress or protect, you stayed silent as the leader of the 100 reprimanded you.

The rest of that day was ok for you. It didn’t seem like anything had changed from last time. You were ignored, talked about, and stared at. It was Murphy’s ex who was pathetic enough to still love him after everything he did.

At first, you didn’t mind the comments. It didn’t interfere with your work or daily life. Then, it did. Delinquents made work harder for you, blaming you for everything and making you do extra. People would tease you, asking if you were going to murder Jasper or Bellamy to ‘finish the job.’ With all the rumors, Bellamy took away your gun privileges! That wasn’t so great. You felt so vulnerable already. He just had to take your one useful weapon. You still had Murphy’s pocket knife, the one that was used against him. Yeah, you threw it away after an hour of carrying it around. You stole someone else’s dagger.

You contemplated leaving, many times. You still had your emergency pack. The 100, or what was left of them, hated you. There was a war coming. You had every reason to leave. However, Murphy always came back to your thoughts. You knew that if Murphy had nowhere else to go, he would come back. What if he did, and you weren’t there. They’d kill him for sure. You had to stay. You couldn’t risk that small chance.

The battle at camp was hard for you. No one was willing to protect you. You had to fend for yourself. You already did beforehand, but you felt empty knowing that no one would have a second thought if you died. Luckily a cowardly gunman abandoned his weapon, allowing to shoot again. You shot a few Grounders. You were proud, and it seemed like you actually were going to survive.

Then, you woke up in a clean room. It was too clean. You were clean. It was too white. You hated it. It was too perfect. For once, Clarke agreed with you on something. Then, she disappeared. You knew something was wrong. You tried to tell Jasper that Clarke would never just leave. You hated her, but you knew her. Jasper didn’t believe you. He actually outright said you were wrong.

You didn’t blame him, though. How could you? Your ex tried to kill him. Mount Weather wasn’t much different than the camp.The 48 still hated you. They always whispered behind your back. They avoided you at all costs. It was as if you were some bomb. The only great thing about Mount Weather was the food. It was good, actually.

You actually started to spend a lot of time with the adults of the mountain. They didn’t know about your past. They also gave you answers. Yeah, Jasper may not believe you, but you knew something was wrong with this safe and clean haven. Sure, you didn’t have anyone to fight for, but you had yourself. You were still alive despite people hating you, your ex murdering people, and being in a war. You couldn’t have survived this long without some sort of light at the end of the tunnel. Whether that included a love life with John Murphy, you never cared anymore. He was most likely dead.

In Mount Weather, you fought for you.

Murphy, well, you were wrong. He was alive, and he was going crazy. He planned on getting you out first. The Grounders promised him that if he gave them all the information he had, he could take you and live peacefully in another faraway village. The dropship was the surprise. Once the dust had cleared, the only person on the dropship was Raven. No one else was in sight.

He knew that in order to find you, he had to join Bellamy. Murphy hated the idea as much as everyone else did, but it was the only way. If you weren’t with Bellamy or Raven, you were with the other 48, somewhere. He would do anything to find you.

Murphy fought for you.

When saving the girl from another section of the ark, he helped. It wasn’t because he pitied the girl or wanted to save her. The reason Murphy felt the need to save her was, well, is because he heard you say it. He knew he was hallucinating. Murphy knew he was probably going crazy, but he didn’t care. Your voice had whispered, “She’s innocent.” Suddenly, Murphy saw Charlotte down there, hanging on for dear life. He saw someone there because of him. He helped her, and he was proud of himself.

When with Finn, he saw much of himself. He saw someone desperately in love with someone that would never love them back. He felt sorry for him if he were to be honest. When he saw a Grounder using his handmade knife, Murphy almost snapped. You had that knife. He already propped his gun on his shoulder. He was ready to shoot any and every person in sight.

Then, he saw you. Of course, he knew it wasn’t possible. He knew it was a hallucination. His gun was still aimed at you. It wasn’t real.

You, what Murphy thought was you, just smiled. “Think, John.” It was only two words. However, it was all it took for Murphy to lower his gun. The Grounders were scavengers. That’s why their clothing was very mismatched and less organized than the others that he had seen. Murphy had seen a lot of Grounders.

Then, Murphy had to guard the pen of Grounders. One little child started to cry. Murphy tried his best to look away. Then, he saw you, from the corner of his eyes. This vision was different, though. It was the younger version of you. You looked ten or eleven. You appeared from the forest. Your figure ran to the boy and embraced him. Suddenly, the Grounder boy morphed into his younger self. Murphy closed his eyes. He remembered the first night his mom drank. He cried in a secluded part of the Ark. You had found him and ran to him. You had hugged him, regardless of why, and had whispered, “Nothing bad will happen. Not to you. Not while I’m here.”

Murphy sighed. He walked over to the boy and whispered, “Hey, nothing bad will happen to you. I won’t let it.” The child was confused, to say the least, but nodded nonetheless.

Then, both Finn and he went crazy. One Grounder jumped out of the pen before they left. Finn shot at him. Murphy, himself, pulled Finn back. He kept shouting at him to stop and that it wasn’t what Clarke would’ve wanted. Then, as Murphy looked to the crowd. Suddenly, he saw you, protecting the same child from before. You looked exactly how you were before he said goodbye. Murphy panicked. Murphy stepped in front of the gun and was shot.

You came back from the mountain. You didn’t get tortured, luckily. Coming back wasn’t the greatest thing in the world. You were still ignored by those still alive of the 100. So, for the first twenty minutes, you just walked around camp and ate. You even contemplated leaving again.

“(Y/n), right?”

It was Abigail Griffin. You didn’t know much of her, except that she was a doctor on the Ark. She was on a stretcher, still weak from what had happened.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

She smiled sadly. “You need to see something.” She gestured for one of the other nurses to take you.

You were lead through the old Ark, or what was left of it. You came into a room for some injured. In the back, you saw a familiar mop of black hair. He was sitting still on the bed, staring at the wall. You held your breath. It couldn’t be. You rushed to him and gasped. “Murphy?”

Your ex turned around. He had his arm in a sling, and bandages were visible. His eyes widened at the sight of you. He smiled. “I thought we agreed to say goodbye.”

You smiled with tears in your eyes. Emotions overtook you like a tidal wave. You were still mad at him, but how could you be in that moment? He was dead. You thought he was. But, he was right in front of you. He was breathing, hurt, but alive. You couldn’t really ask for anything better when it came to living on the Ground.

Careful not to injure him, you hugged him. You brushed one hand through his hair and sighed. It’s been such a long time. “I thought you were dead, Murphy.” You pursed your lips, preventing yourself from saying something stupid.

He laughed, then groaned. It still hurt. “Well, I’m glad my ex thinks so highly of me.”

You pulled away from him and sat next to him. You grasped his hand and explained, “I do think highly of you. The Grounders, however, have a much higher standing in my book.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t blame you for that one.” Murphy sighed. He wanted to tell you so much. He wanted to apologize, hug you, kiss you, maybe even say 'I love you, but how could he? He had done so many horrible things. Why would you forgive him?

You sighed. “You know, being back in camp, even for a short amount of time, you hear a lot of things.”

He stiffened. What rumors were floating around now?

You bit your lip. “Murphy, you stepped in front of a gun and got hurt.” You leaned forward a little, trying to catch his eyes. “Are you ok?”

He smiled a little. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” You slapped him upside the head.

“What was that for?!” he shouted.

You rolled your eyes. “For being stupid!” You groaned. “Out of all the things you could’ve done when I was gone, you step in front of a gun!” You shook your head. “Unbelievable.”

He smiled. “Yeah, well, I won’t be doing many stupid things now.” Not wanting to reveal how insane he went, Murphy gestured to his cast. “Not sure if that will ever heal properly.”

You whipped out a dagger and spun it with your fingers. “You only need one hand for this.” You showed it to him.

Murphy stared at it with a smile. His grin grew a little. You carved your initials in it, just like he did with his. “Thanks.” As you set down the knife on his bedside drawer, Murphy breathed deeply and continued, “(Y/n), do you think things will get back to normal again?”

You pursed your lips. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I still love you, you know?” Murphy mentioned nonchalantly.

You nodded. “And I still love you.”

Murphy looked at you with surprise. You still weren’t looking at him, so he turned to face the wall again. He tightened his grip on your hand. “It’ll work out, right?”

You gazed at him. You held it for a few seconds, wondering if he will catch your stare. When he didn’t, you stared at the wall again. “Yeah.” You scooted closer to him and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I want it to.”

Murphy gulped. He missed this position. You two sometimes would sit like this when you were at dinner or by the campfire. He missed those days. 

Suddenly, another vision of you appeared right in front of him. Murphy sighed. He smiled a little at the hallucination. His vision whispered, “Good luck,” before finally disappearing.

Murphy gazed at you with a grin. “Yeah. Me, too.”


End file.
